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Echoes of the Obsolescent
Just as I was about to step into my neighbourhood, I spotted a hearse parked a few metres away from my house. Someone must be dead. Stepping into my neighbourhood is somewhat a transformative experience. One step into the alley, off the busy street, and you feel a steep urban gradient — literally, like an…
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The Challenge of Solitude
The hour neared five and the evening sky donned its overcast veil. A gentle breeze flirted with the trees, the scent of fresh leaves enchanting the senses. Surely, no evening could have been more serene. The bus harboured but three souls — two were elderly men, and the third was myself, ensconced by a window…
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Crossover to the Adversary
Deserted myself; blew up into the smoke, Drowned in liquor; walked out of all ties, Chained to stakes and dangled from cliffs; Choked for drown; vomited dragons. Grew more isolated; escaped my flesh, Soared from the earth; collided with the clouds, Shattered the peaks, Reduced to embers; faded to oblivion. Bled dry; slept into agony,…
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Death of the Abolitionist
You keep running through the trenches, Ignoring the dead beneath your boots; Time trails silently behind. It’s dark — The world painted in shades of green, Blood turns black, Seeping from mangled bones As you step over them. You glance back. Between twin flames of burning trees, You see her — Fading slowly into your…
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A Bushy Affair
Isn’t it curious that the president of a forest turns out to be a bush? Nevertheless, as a ‘beneficiary’ of imperialism, I must confess that the veracity of the ensuing account is somewhat compromised. Names and some details have been deliberately obfuscated for the sake of national (or should I say, personal) security. In days…
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Escaping the Bubble
Relentless drops endure the distance. Wandering hands probe for an aperture. Anxious. Semi-ajar panes shove aside those desperate to flee the Bubble, stretching weary arms, pleading for survival. Desperate. Within, there is no life, no comfort, no peace. Alone drifts a vast throng, sweeping through sublime ecstasies, palpable joys. Surrounding, countless souls adrift, divided by…
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Holes of Hope
India is a burgeoning nation, forever in a state of development. A quintessential example of this development is Howrah, where the roads are perennially ‘developing’ — developing cracks, developing fissures, developing pot-holes, and a variety of other gaping characteristics. It is worth mentioning that this insignificant discussion is regarding the historical Grand Trunk Road and…
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The Day I was Happy
From the bed in our old house, I could see the park and all those playing there. How lucky they were! Ma had said that one day, rats would come to take my teeth and replace them with stronger, sharper ones. “Ma, when will the rats come? It hurts!” But Ma wasn’t there to hear…
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Too Lucky to be Yours
I am thirty-two years old, comfortably ensconced in the role of a spinster, and reside alone in an apartment high on the eleventh floor, overlooking a cityscape that feels both confining and infinite. If you propose that I need a physical fitness program, consider this: I exercise daily through intricate mental gymnastics—evading straightforward answers, leaping…
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An Epic Journey
Just one more day of school. As I wish myself good luck, I begin my journey. My school, Don Bosco School Liluah, nestles in Liluah, merely five kilometres from Howrah Railway Station, located within Howrah, in the heart of West Bengal, India. Crossing the expanse between Howrah and Liluah is no mere commute; it transforms…
Shamasis Bhattacharya 